Page 23 of The Barbarian’s Claim (Not-So-Savage Barbarians #4)

Twenty-Three

EINAR

T here was a hum in my throat as Matthew ran his hands over my skin, checking again that I was uninjured.

There had been a lot of blood from the fight, but none had been mine.

I’d argued against making Orn a warrior when he first requested it—he wasn’t skilled enough—but he was strong and willing, so Orthorr allowed it anyway.

The battle today was proof I had been right all along. It should not have been that easy.

Pulling Matthew closer, I ran my tongue up his neck, causing him to shiver and gasp. “Have your worries been assuaged, zoragar? I am unharmed.”

He tipped his head to give me more room, even while shaking his head. “N-no. I-it’s t-too dark to see.”

Chuckling, I nipped at his chin. We had gone to the river so I could clean off, and I allowed him to check me while I undressed and dragged him into the water to help me get the blood off, and still he was unsatisfied.

Since I worried about him just as much when he was hurt, I allowed his attentions.

I enjoyed having him in my lap too much to complain.

“How are you not freezing right now?” Simon called out.

I sighed heavily. I should have known we could not keep the river to ourselves for long.

It wasn’t so late that the clan was sleeping.

The sun had barely set when the drokagorn had begun.

And it wasn’t like it lasted that long. It was too short to satisfy me.

I only ended it because Orn’s attempts to fight had grown pathetic, and it felt like a waste of my efforts to keep going.

Along with Simon came Feigrind, then Finn and Rath, followed by Verus and his bondmate, Patrick. The healer, Zoya, and her bondmate Khaul brought their babe, and a few others came as well. It was common in the clans to bathe in groups, but right now, I wished they would leave us be.

Matthew dropped his gaze, hugging my neck tightly. Rubbing his back, I asked, “What is wrong?”

“I-I w-wish I c-c-could answer h-him…” he murmured.

“You will, one day,” I reassured him, rubbing my hand along his spine.

He was embarrassed by his condition, but he improved every day as he spoke to me.

When he wasn’t stressed and felt safe enough to take his time, he was clearer.

There were times when he said something without the tremor at all.

He just needed more time and to have more trust in the clan, as he did with me.

“Absolutely not!” Simon screeched, taking a big step back from Feigrind, who had a wicked grin on his face.

I urged Matthew to turn, and we both watched as my brothers convinced their bondmates to join them in the river instead of washing with the pot of warmed water nearby.

Finn was the easiest to convince, since he was besotted with Rath.

The rest took only a little persuasion. Only Simon adamantly refused, and Feigrind had to toss him over his shoulder to get him into the water.

The profanity that flew from Simon’s mouth was both in the clan language and the common tongue, and it only stopped when Feigrind kissed him.

Matthew slowly relaxed, watching with a quirk in his lips, amused at Simon’s protests.

He was small enough that I still preferred for him to bathe with warm water, but he was putting on more weight, and as long as he was in my arms, I felt it was safe enough for him to join me.

Besides, I would warm him up in our tent later.

“Hey, Einar!” Verus called out from where the rest were bathing. “Do you want us to set up a larger tent for you and your bondmate? You had no ceremony!”

Matthew frowned, the question in his eyes when he looked at me.

“When a male is bonded, his tent is expanded to better fit a couple and future children. I hadn’t thought of it until now.”

“I-I like our t-t-tent,” he whispered.

I felt no need to push him. He could always change his mind later. For now, he was happy with the smaller space because he told me it was more than he had while living on the streets. He felt comfortable and safe there.

Verus got distracted with his bondmate, but Rath waited for my answer. He dipped his chin to acknowledge my head shake in reply and gave his attention back to Finn, who was shivering and plastered against his chest.

For a little while, we stayed in the water.

Matthew watched the other couples, listening to their conversations.

I knew he didn’t understand, but he seemed content to just listen and relax in my arms. I allowed it for a time before I became more focused on the naked male in my lap than my brothers and their mates.

Running my hands up Matthew’s thighs, I whispered in his ear, “Have I missed any spots, zoragar?”

He shivered, turning back to give me his full attention. A slow, heated grin pulled at his lips, and he rested his forehead against mine.

“I-it’s t-too dark to tell,” he whispered back.

“Then we should go to where we can see better to check.”

He lit up at the suggestion, scrambling off my lap. He quickly sat back down again, his face pink. I couldn’t help but smirk. Perhaps I should have waited to tease him until we got back to our tent.

“Matthew!” Simon called, nudging Feigrind to bring him a cloth to cover himself like he had noticed Matthew’s distress. The cloth would get wet, but it was fine. I would leave it by the fire once we returned to my tent.

He waved and gave Simon a grateful look as we stepped out of the water, and I helped Matthew to change without being seen.

Then we headed back to our tent alone so I could warm him properly.

I might not have been the best bondmate, but I knew how best to comfort him after a long day.

I was happy to give him what he needed whenever he needed it.

Slowly, I learned to speak around the clan.

It started with one person at a time: Simon to start before eventually including Finn and Patrick and Zoya.

When I first started trying to reproduce the barbarian language, my condition got worse, but as I grew more confident and comfortable with my small group of friends, it settled little by little.

After asking how it started, Zoya said it was most likely a fear-based issue, and it could go away with time if I was more confident and felt safe to take my time speaking.

With Einar, I felt the most secure. There were times where I could speak full sentences without the words trembling.

I spoke slower with him, especially when trying to use the barbarian language, but that worked in my favor, as I focused on each word and my voice trembled less because of it.

He never rushed me. Even though he said he wouldn’t be a very loving bondmate, he made me feel cherished every day.

He was more reserved around his clan, but in private, he cuddled me and kissed me, giving me everything I needed and more.

It was a surprise that I hadn’t melted into a puddle in the past few weeks with how sweet he was to me.

He snagged my hips, stopping me from reaching for my tunic.

I was going to hunt with him, and I was eager to get moving, since he finally felt I was ready to try on my own after weeks of learning from Rath.

I pouted at him, ignoring his smirk as he drew me between his legs, pressing his lips against the scar on my belly.

It was his morning ritual, reminding me of what he would do to protect me if anyone thought they could hurt me.

With Simon’s encouragement, I agreed to learn to protect myself so Einar would worry less about me, but I knew it was unlikely I would ever use the skills he taught me.

Einar wouldn’t let me leave his side since we returned.

The farthest I got was the banks of the river while he bathed and I used the warm water with Simon and Finn.

Once he was satisfied that he had kissed every inch of the scar, he stood, pulling on a thicker tunic.

Snow covered the ground now, and we needed layers to hunt without shivering.

Especially me. I’d put on muscle and some fat since joining the clan, but I was still thin.

I doubted I’d ever be as built as Einar.

Bouncing on my toes, I waited for him to strap all his weapons to him. I had my dagger and the bow he’d made for me, but he had more. He was still intimidating, still suspicious, but I felt safest with him. I would never complain about him preparing to protect me.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded rapidly, grabbing his hand and tugging him out of the tent.

He chuckled softly as he followed, letting me lead the way into the trees.

I found my way to a spot far enough away from the village that the creatures were sure to come out, tucking myself against a tree with my bow lowered but ready.

“Take your time. We are in no rush,” he murmured against my ear.

He always said that to me, reminding me that I could take things slow with him.

Taking my time meant I could learn better and retain the knowledge.

It ensured I could speak without trembling and make my voice heard.

I was in no rush. Einar would support me if I needed him, but encouraged me to stand on my own as well. Everything was okay.

Breathing deeply, I waited for the forest creatures to venture out again.

I stayed calm and steady, listening and scanning the area, until a familiar waddling bird edged into my line of sight.

The same kind of bird that Einar had caught the first time he took me hunting with him.

Lifting my bow slowly, I aimed at the fat creature, adjusting to a better position when he touched my shoulder and elbow.

Drawing in a slow breath, I waited for the right moment before letting my arrow loose. It wasn’t as clean as Einar’s kill, it struck the bird in the side, but Einar hit it again with another arrow before it could run, and the two arrows took the creature down.

Pressing a kiss to my temple, he murmured, “Good job.”

I melted at his words, standing to tend to my catch. For years, I had no place in the world. I chose to volunteer as tribute in hopes of doing something good with my life for once. Now, I had a reason to be proud of myself. I could contribute and bring honor to my clan and my bondmate.

Maybe happiness isn’t handed out only to those with power.

It is earned through hard work and love, the support of others, and a little bit of luck.

I would continue to work hard for my clan and my bondmate.

To keep the happiness I was gifted for making a sacrifice I thought would end my life.

And I would keep making Einar and my family proud.